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The life of Arshile Gorky, one of the most famous mid-century American artists, was marked by tragedy from the very beginning. Born around 1902 in an Armenian province of Ottoman Turkey, he and his family experienced the horror of the 1915 Genocide, during which more than a million Armenians were massacred. Somehow, he, his mother and three sisters escaped, though a few short years later, his mother died of starvation. At the age of 16, he managed to find his way to America, eventually settling in New York in 1924. In the following twenty plus years, this self-taught painter absorbed the lessons of a number of great artists, from Cezanne to Picasso to Miro....
This past Memorial Day weekend turned out to have yet another sad dimension. Yes, we honored the memory of untold thousands of American soldiers who lost their lives on the battlefield in service of our country. But in addition to that, those of us caring deeply about art had an extra reason to mourn over the last few days. Saturday brought the news of the death - at age 74 - of Dennis Hopper, the famous Hollywood actor and distinguished artist...
When I think about artists who excel at the art of portraiture, I am thinking about those whom I admire not just for capturing the likeness of a sitter, but those who, courageously and in the most uncompromising way, swore to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth: about the people who model for them, then about us viewers, and ultimately, about themselves...
When I went to Christopher Grimes Gallery for the opening of the exhibition of paintings by Scott Short, I didn't detect any signs of crisis. There were only two large, abstract, black and white paintings in the front room, which made for a very elegant, spare installation. The last time I saw this artist's work was a couple of months ago in New York, at the Whitney Biennial, so I was looking forward to seeing his new exhibition here in Los Angeles and meeting the artist himself. Scott Short's paintings put me in a rather contemplative mood, offering an interesting dilemma: should they be perceived as a proliferation of white shapes painted on a black ground, or black shapes painted on a white ground? Am I seeing a night sky through flakes of falling snow, or, a vast snow-covered landscape dotted with hundreds of tiny dark splotches – skiers, perhaps?
One of the guilty pleasures of being an art critic is having the chance to visit artists in their studios, ask questions, look at art closely, hear the stories, and - yes, smell the paint. When an artwork leaves the studio, the proverbial umbilical cord is cut; seen later - in a gallery or museum exhibition - the work continues to be appealing, but something is missing. And that something is the unique intimacy that only can be experienced by seeing the artwork in the midst of the creative chaos of an artist's studio.
If I had the chance to be in New York today, the Christie's saleroom in Rockefeller Center would be the place I'd try to sneak into, to watch the high-profile sale of the outstanding private collection of Los Angeles philanthropist and collector Frances Brody. In spite of the state of the economy, this collection, with its truly amazing works by Matisse, Picasso, Braque, and Giacometti, among others, is expected to fetch at least $150 million....
As expected, last week's program titled "Let Me Confess..." about the three churches I went rather spontaneously to on Sunday afternoon generated more responses than usual. One listener wrote: "Edward, you should do this sort of urban landscape confessional thing more often." And indeed, I'm planning to do just that. In response to my asking for your favorite house of worship here in Los Angeles and beyond - one you like for its art, architecture, and interior design - I received some very interesting suggestions and do hope to get even more, along with photographs you've taken. So in the weeks and months to come, I'll continue to travel around our City of Angels, following up on your suggestions, and then we can all participate in choosing LA's three most visually appealing houses of worship...
Let me start by admitting that last Sunday I did something very...hmm, shall I say...unusual? It's not just that I went to church, but that in one afternoon I went to three churches. And I must confess that I went there not to pray or to hear a sermon, but just for the pleasure of it. It all started rather innocently...
The past week turned out to be challenging and very hard on some of my friends. It brought a trifecta of bad news, affecting them and their friends. I would probably still be singing the blues if not for the generous dollop of art and culture that I got last weekend...
Last week was special indeed. Most of my friends were busy celebrating either Passover or Easter, so I felt compelled to do something for my spirit as well. As my luck would have it, American Cinematheque at the Aero Theatre was showing Andrei Rublev, the famous movie by avant-garde Russian director Andrei Tarkovsky telling the story of the 16th century Russian monk and artist whose frescoes and icons are among the most cherished treasures of Russian spiritual culture...
From the publisher's feed
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